Wolf and Trout
by gweaz
Summary: Shortly after Sansa is born Cat notices that Ned has been acting strangely. She tries to get down to the bottom of his sullen mood. A little bit of domestic!NedCat in happier days with some unrepentant smut added in the mix.


**Wolf and Trout**

by gweaz

Ned Stark was moping.

His wife had become acutely aware of his moods over the first few years of marriage—if you discount the first year of physical separation and the several months of silence that followed. While his face betrayed very little of his inner thoughts, she had nearly mastered discerning the subtle differences between solemnity and joy, annoyance and intrigue, jest and anger.

For weeks she had been watching him stomp about the courtyard of Winterfell, snapping at the stable hands—even at Robb or Jon on occasion. He was particularly gruff during his judicial duties as he doled out justice and punishment for the petty disputes amongst the smallfolk. She was certain his ire was not directed at them in particular and wanted to find out what was bothering her husband.

Was it something she had done perhaps? She had noticed that he was avoiding her company more than she had become accustomed to of late. While she was pregnant with Sansa, Ned would often join her for breakfast in her chambers, laughing and smiling more freely than she ever saw him do in the presence of others. He had been attentive and caring and Cat found that their morning ritual had soon become her favorite part of the day. She was still getting used to the chill of the North and the people of Winterfell had not quite warmed to her. The mornings with her husband became her sense of home. For an hour a day she would forget about Riverrun and start to think of her future as a woman of the North and a wife to this man who she was still learning to know.

For a short while, Cat considered that it was the new baby that had caused the rift. After all, it was only shortly after Sansa was born that Ned began acting strangely. Was he disappointed that Cat did not give him another son? At that thought, Catelyn became angry. How could anyone not adore her bright, beautiful girl? She quickly dismissed the thought, however, after watching Ned with the child. He clearly was infatuated with her. In fact, it was only when he was with his children that she noticed that he came out of his sulking.

Catelyn decided she would get to the bottom of her husband's sullen mood; she was getting tired of spending the frozen Northern nights and frosty mornings alone.

* * *

On a good day in the North, Cat had to work hard to keep the chill at bay. But it was a particularly brisk morning for summer when Catelyn, robed in thick furs, went in search of her husband as he had failed, yet again, to join her for the morning meal. She left the protection of the keep and drew the furs closer to her body and soon heard his deep baritone coming from the courtyard. She quietly walked over to the bannister that looked out upon the courtyard. She smiled at the sight before her.

Ned was teaching the boys how to properly hold a sword. He was dressed only in breeches and a light shirt. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered discovering when Ned returned from the rebellion that her husband was better than warming stones under the covers on cold Northern nights.

His muscular arms were around Robb, showing him how to position his small hands on the grip of the child-sized wooden sword. Cat could only catch a glimpse of Robb's russet locks, but could tell that the boy was nearly bouncing out of Ned's arms in excitement. While Cat was not a swordplay enthusiast, she knew how much teaching the boys to fight meant to Ned, and how excited they were to learn.

"Like this, father?" Robb asked eagerly, squirming from Ned's arms and brandishing the sword.

"That is a fine, strong grip, Robb," Ned said seriously. "Now, go practice your swing while I show Jon."

Catelyn continued to watch her son. She laughed quietly when he swung the stick so hard that he spun around and toppled to the ground. He bounced up as quickly as only a boy of five years is capable of and began swinging wildly again, giving no notice to the mud that covered his breeches. Cat was warmed by the sight of her child playing without a care in the world.

Her gaze shifted to the second child below, the raven-haired Jon Snow. After the years, it only gave her heart an occasional twinge to look upon the boy. While his demeanor could not have been more different from Robb's, the two were inseparable. She watched as Ned instructed his second son on the finer points of wielding a sword. Jon stood watching his father with an intense gaze that belied his four short years. He had inherited his father's solemnity in addition to his look. As much as she hated that Jon Snow had been brought to Winterfell, she was glad he was such a devoted companion to her son—she could not fault the boy for that.

Apparently satisfied in Jon's progress, Ned beckoned Robb over to them. He began instructing them on the stance and footwork of one-on-one combat. Both boys were hopelessly clumsy, stumbling over their own feet. Catelyn couldn't keep the grin from her face. Perhaps swordplay wasn't so bad—it's not as if the boys were training for real combat. Westeros was at peace.

After a particularly graceless tumble on the part of Robb, Ned was beside himself with laughter. Cat was happy at the sight of it. She watched as Jon rushed to his side, always there to help his brother back to his feet. Even from a distance, Cat saw Jon's eyes widen and his head shake as Robb whispered something into his ear. Cat's own eyebrows rose in amusement as she watched her son spring back to his feet and run headlong, smiling, but sword swinging at his chuckling father. Jon stood immobile, watching his brother.

Ned was caught off guard as all forty-five pounds of flailing boy struck him below the belt. Catelyn and Jon both held their breath as they waited to see Ned's reaction. After the initial shock from the assault wore off, Ned let out an exaggerated groan and slumped to the ground.

"I have been slain," Ned said, and with a grimace and a final gasp lay motionless on the ground.

"Father!" Jon shouted, launching into action to help Ned. It was Robb's turn to stand motionless with shock at what he had done. Jon slid to his knees beside his father and began shaking Ned's shoulders. Though his eyes remained closed, Cat could see the corners of his mouth begin to turn up. Cat smiled. The poor boys would not know what had hit them.

Just as Robb was edging nearer to his father, Ned sprung to life with a mighty wail. He was on his feet in a flash with a wooden sword seemingly from nowhere already in his hand. Jon and Robb screamed as they jumped back from their ferocious father.

"What are you going to do, boys?" Ned asked. "Are you going to quake in fear?" he asked with a snarl. "Or are you going to fight?" A mischievous grin was on his face as he took a defensive stance. Jon was the first to move, picking up his sword and running at his father. Robb was only a step behind. There followed a mighty clacking of wooden swords as the brothers took on their father. Ned easily parried their jabs and laughed in encouragement every time one of his sons got in a clean hit. As she watched her husband play at war with his sons, there was no sign of the sullen man that Cat had been watching over the past few weeks.

Cat watched the skirmish for a few more minutes noting that while Robb seemed to have the better sword work, Jon had quicker reactions and better fighting instinct. As much as it pained Catelyn to admit, Jon Snow looked as if he were born to protect Robb's weak side. Though Cat shared no blood with the dark haired boy, it was clear as day that he belonged with Robb.

Soon Ned had disarmed Robb and gathered the boy up under his left arm. He continued to trade parries with Jon as the russet-haired child thrashed wildly with fists and feet striking at Ned's side. Jon threw his sword to the ground and, with the smallest battle cry Cat had ever heard, launched himself at his father, trying to free his brother from Ned's strong grip. Soon the three were wrestling in a pile on the ground, squeals and laughter coming from the boys as Ned easily took on the two of them and tickled their weak points.

Though Cat was enjoying the show immensely, Robb's nursemaid would have Catelyn's head if she knew that Cat had stood by while the boy made himself filthy with mud. It was time to put an end to the lesson.

"Boys!" she hollered down to the rolling mass of limbs, "stop rolling about this instant!" Robb and Jon immediately stopped flailing and turned toward her voice—a move that Ned took full advantage of by scooping both boys up over his shoulders and spinning them around.

"Lork Stark," Catelyn said sternly, "that goes for you as well." Ned turned to face her, his jaw open in alarm, the boys still slung over his shoulders. She turned away from her astonished husband and smiled as she returned to the warmth of the keep.

* * *

Catelyn was hopeful that the carefree Ned from the fighting lesson would replace the moody one that had been skulking around Winterfell for weeks. Her chances for observation were slim, however; Ned left the next morning for a trip to Castle Black to meet with the Lord High Commander of the Night's Watch—something about Winter coming. Again. Perhaps that is what Ned had been sullen about. Winter is coming. Yes, yes, we know, thought Catelyn. Isn't it always?

When Ned returned from the wall Catelyn was in the nursery with Sansa. The six-month-old was growing faster than Cat could keep track of. Her strawberry hair was growing longer by the day and her bright blue eyes followed Cat wherever she went. Catelyn was singing her a Riverlands lullaby when her husband entered the room. He stopped short when he saw her.

"I'm sorry," he began, "I didn't know you would be here. I do not wish to interrupt." He turned to leave, but before he took another step, Cat stopped him.

"Ned," she said—she only used his given name when they were alone. "Don't be silly. Stay. You've been gone for days and Sansa missed you." Ned looked at his daughter in Cat's arms—Sansa was smiling and bouncing in her mother's arms reaching for him. "I've missed you, too" she added. Ned's only response was a slight rise in his eyebrows.

"May I?" Ned asked, reaching out for the girl. Cat nodded, and handed Sansa off to her father. She giggled happily. "Hello, my darling girl," Ned said and started walking her about the room. Cat observed as her husband carried on a one-sided conversation about his trip to the Wall and back. Five years ago, Catelyn never would have believed that Eddard Stark was the parenting kind; she assumed he would be a gruff, hands-off type. She was happy to see, however, that he had seamlessly transitioned from warrior to devoted father. He always made time for Robb and Sansa—and Jon, Cat supposed.

Soon enough, Sansa had fallen asleep in her father's arms. He cautiously laid her down in the bassinet—careful not to disturb her slumber; young as she was, Sansa was beginning to develop a bit of a Tully temper.

"You're very good with her," Cat whispered as she stood behind her husband looking down on their child. "She never falls asleep so quickly for me."

"Perhaps you tell better stories," Ned whispered, eyes still transfixed on the sleeping baby. "Sansa doesn't seem to take much interest in adventure stories." He reached out and stroked her silken red hair and sighed. "I'd better go," he said. "I need to check in with Maester Luwin."

Catelyn took hold of his arm as he started to walk toward the door. "My lord, what is going on?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been acting strangely for weeks now! You've been skulking around Winterfell like your best hunting dog has died. You've been short with the smallfolk. I've exchanged more words with Hodor than with you lately," she said with a laugh. When Ned didn't respond, Catelyn continued.

"You barely look at me anymore," Catelyn said, her frustration making her bold. "You haven't come to my bed for near three moons." At that, his eyes snapped to hers. "Yes, Lork Stark, I have noticed your absence." She could detect a hint of remorse on his face. "Will you tell me what has been bothering you?"

Ned was fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve and looking anywhere but at her. "You'll laugh," he said finally.

"Men and their ridiculous fear of women laughing at them!" Cat exclaimed. "I'll never understand it." She shook her head. "Out with it, Eddard Stark! What has been bothering you?" He said nothing. "Is it me? Is it something I've done to displease you?"

"Of course not, my lady," Ned said, putting a hand on her arm. "You have never displeased me." It was clear that he was sorry to have caused her distress.

"Then what?"

"The villagers have been talking," he began, pausing as if he did not want to go any further into it. He looked to his wife to see if he would be forced to continue. She merely raised an eyebrow and waited. "They say that our children don't look like they've a drop of Stark blood in them, that they're Tully through and through."

At first, Cat was shocked that the villagers would say such things. Then she became angry at the implication. Ned certainly had no reason to fear her laughter—her temper, however, was a whole different matter. Her cheeks began to flush with fury. She shook her arm from his grip and turned away from him.

"Is that why you won't look at me, Ned?" She asked with a quiver of anger in her voice. "Because you believe that Robb and Sansa are bastards? I'll remind you, my lord," she said bitingly and turned back to him, "that not all of your children take after me." Ned's look of complete shock made it clear that the thought had not crossed his mind. He placed both of his hands on her shoulders and looked her straight in the eye.

"Robb and Sansa are mine," he stated. "And if anyone ever suggests otherwise, I'll have their head." Catelyn was struck by the severity of his tone and knew that he was not exaggerating; she did not doubt for a second that he would be good on his word. Ned had made a mistake but after years of marriage, she knew he was absolutely devoted to her and their children. She was glad he had overlooked her reminder of his infidelity. Her shoulders softened and a rush of affection for her husband filled her.

"Then why would these rumors upset you so?" she asked. He chuckled.

"I told you, you would laugh," Ned started. "I knew there was nothing meant by it. They're right. Robb and Sansa are the spitting image of you," he said reaching out to twist a lock of her auburn hair between his fingers. Catelyn smiled up at her husband and encouraged him with her eyes to continue. "When I heard them talking, I wanted to give them proof that you were mine, that no one could ever say otherwise." Cat was struck by the swift change in his expression from fondness to a hungry need. "I thought of filling this castle with little children that have Stark hair and blue Tully eyes and—"

He was cut off by Cat's lips on his and shocked as she pulled him toward her for an embrace. He did not protest and held her tightly, deepening the kiss. Her hands grasped at his neck and his entwined themselves in her russet locks. Before they got too carried away, however, Catelyn pulled away from the kiss and began to laugh. When she looked up at her husband, her laughter only increased at the sight of his look of horrified confusion. She knew he must think her mad, but she could not help herself.

"I laugh," she said, looking up at her husband with a smile, "but certainly not for the reason you think."

"Enlighten me, then," he said without humor. Cat gained control of herself before responding.

"It just strikes me as silly that you would mope around for weeks because of these rumors from the smallfolk when there would be such an easy way to quiet the talk," she said.

"An easy way?" Ned asked.

"Yes, my lord," she said, staring him in the eyes. "But it certainly wouldn't be achieved by avoiding my bed." Ned's eyebrows shot up and she thought she could discern a slight hint of red in his cheeks. She laughed again and kissed him before he could respond, this time briefly.

"Goodnight, Ned," she said and turned to leave room, giving her shocked husband a parting glance over her shoulder as she left. She laughed again at the mixture of expressions on his face—astonishment, confusion, a little bit of irritation, and—if she was not much mistaken—desire.

* * *

Cat was woken later that evening by a dip in the mattress behind her and a warm hand snaking around her waist. She placed a hand over his and snuggled into the welcome warmth of her husband's chest.

"I have missed you, Ned," she said quietly, enjoying the feel of his arms around her. Ned nuzzled in closer and kissed her neck. "Truly," she added with a shiver that was only partially caused by the chill coming off the window.

"You've only missed the warmth in your bed," he said, his deep voice so close to her ear she could feel its vibration in her bones. This time, the shiver had nothing to do with the cold.

"That and other things," she mused as she rubbed her backside suggestively against his stomach. He let out a low groan and she grinned.

"What sort of other things?" Ned asked against her hair. She turned in his arms so that she was facing him and smiled mischievously.

"The sort of things that start different kinds of rumors," she said with a gleam in her eye. "The kinds of things," she said, kissing him between her words, "that beget little boys and girls with dark hair and blue eyes." Cat fleetingly worried that her husband would think her nothing more than a wanton, but in truth she didn't care—she enjoyed their nights together and it had been entirely too long. And the way he was kissing her neck and running his hands down her back assured her that he didn't much care whether or not his wife was a wanton.

Cat gasped when Ned's hands found the right spot just below her buttocks and squeezed. Her body involuntarily arched toward his and the evidence of his arousal nudged against her abdomen. He groaned and rolled onto his back, bringing Cat along with him so that she was straddling his hips. She ground her hips against his, sighing with pleasure at the friction that her smallclothes caused in all the right places.

Cat took Ned's hands in hers and intertwined her fingers with his, pinning them above his head. She leaned down to kiss him and her hair cascaded around his face creating a cavern just for the two of them. After a moment, Ned broke the kiss. She raised her head a few inches so she could see his face. His expression was full of lust, but something else was there alongside it.

"My lady," he began, but stopped. "Catelyn. Never for a second think that I do not want you, that there is anything you could do to make me stop wanting you." He was looking at her with such awe and raw need that she knew he was in earnest. She couldn't deny that a part of her had been afraid that her husband had lost interest and that was what had kept him from her bed for these last weeks. She placed her hands on either side of his face and gave him a lingering kiss before sitting back up and pulling her nightgown over her head.

The brisk air on her breasts brought her nipples to taut peaks, sending a tingling sensation straight to her core. She smiled down at her husband with heavy lidded eyes. He returned her gaze for a moment before his eyes traveled down her naked body. Not a natural exhibitionist, Cat rarely let Ned look upon her body as freely as she did now. She found to her surprise, though, that watching him look at her with desire was very arousing. The space between her legs began to ache and tingle.

Soon, Ned's lips and hands joined his eyes in their admiration of her body. His hands moved in mesmerizing patterns down her back as he leaned up toward her. She gasped as he took one of her nipples into his mouth and teased it to an even harder knot with his tongue. His name was on her lips when his arms wrapped around her and in one fluid motion reversed their positions and removed her last bit of clothing.

"Ned," Cat moaned as she felt his weight press her into the mattress. Their bodies were touching from stem to stern and Cat was aching for him. She caught his lower lip between her teeth and gave a playful tug. He chuckled and thrust his still-clothed erection against her. She released his lip in an involuntary gasp at the contact.

"My lord," Cat purred as she grasped his hard length, "you're wearing far too many clothes." Ned did not have the power of speech to respond. Cat grinned as his ragged breath hitched next to her ear as she stroked him. He moaned when she slid her hand into his breaches and took him in her hand. He made an unintelligible noise when she rubbed her thumb across the head, spreading the small amount of fluid that had already gathered at the tip. With her other hand she undid the laces on his breeches and worked them down his hips, giving his ass a squeeze on the way.

"Fuck," he groaned as he unconsciously began moving his hips against her hand. When he was free of his breeches he leaned back onto his heels and pulled his shirt over his head. It was Cat's turn to admire the naked body in front of her. She could feel herself getting wetter as her eyes pored over the taut muscles of Ned's chest and stomach. When her eyes met his erect penis she nearly jumped at the surge of desire she felt in her vagina.

Ned nearly growled as he lay down upon her, his mouth devouring hers in a hunger that could never be sated. Cat felt as if her whole body was on fire, it burned white-hot everywhere Ned touched. It seemed as if his hands were everywhere at once. She shivered as one of his hands made small circles on the inside of her thigh and she instinctively opened her legs and moved so that his fingers found her clit. He quickly found the rhythm that he knew would make her come undone. She gasped as her world exploded in a shower of sparks behind her eyelids. He continued his circular motions around the bundle of nerves at her center as her body convulsed in pleasure.

Cat did not have time to fully recover before Ned was positioning himself between her legs. She wrapped her legs around him and her world exploded again as he thrust into her so deep that her clit was exquisitely pressed between their two bodies. For a second there was silence, only the sound of their ragged breathing as they took a moment to enjoy the pleasure of the feel of him fully sheathed in her. As Cat came back to herself she noted how it seemed that she and Ned were a perfect fit in all the right ways.

Ned started moving and Cat moved her hips in sync with his strokes. Ned's thrusts were slow and controlled and Cat loved the feel of him coming almost all the way out and then pushing back inside. Soon the tempo increased and Cat met his every thrust. Ned started pumping harder and every time he slammed into her clit stars burst behind her eyelids.

"Faster Ned," she gasped between thrusts. He made no answer but started fucking her harder and faster until his movements became frantic. He shouted her name as he came inside her.

Ned collapsed boneless on top of Cat, but she didn't mind the weight of him. She traced patterns on his back as his breathing slowed. A few moments later, he lifted his head and kissed her collar bone as he rolled off of her and onto his back. Her sweat-slicked skin cooled quickly without his body for warmth. Cat reached for the lightest of the furs at the foot of the bed and pulled it up over the two of them. She moved closer to Ned's side. Reaching for his arm, she pulled him snug against her back. He groaned in protest.

"Too warm," he muttered.

"You wouldn't allow your southron wife freeze up here in the north?" Cat asked. "What would the smallfolk say?"

Ned chuckled and wrapped his arm tighter around Catelyn's waist. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said and let his hand rest on her stomach.

"Maybe this next babe with have dark hair and blue eyes," she said, pressing her own hand on top of his and closing her eyes. "And a bit of her father's stubbornness so that no one could ever suggest she was not a Stark."

Catelyn felt Ned's smile against her neck before he kissed her shoulder and pulled her tight against him once more. Cat smiled as she drifted off to sleep, beginning to dream of filling the halls of Winterfell with little boys and girls that were the perfect mix of wolf and trout.

The End.

 **A/N:** I initially meant this to be a silly story about mopey Ned being upset that his first children with Cat didn't take after him - but then it went in a bit of a different direction. Hope you enjoyed it. Please review!


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